Hate.

I hate the fact that I need medicine to make me feel okay.
I hate it. I hate that if I miss a day, I feel like total shit.
And I hate the fact that pills control my mood.
I hate how I want to go camping, and my parents won't trust me.
I hate how my sister hates my boyfriend for no apparent reason.
And I hate how she has to mention she hates him every five seconds.
I hate how I can't have a lot of friends over because my anxiety bothers me too much.
I hate how my depression keeps trying to pull me back down, and somedays I feel like crying nonstop.
I hate how everyone probably thinks I am fucking crazy, because I can't control myself.

I hate how I am worried that he is going to think I am crazy and breakup with me,
and I really don't want to lose him.
I hate how I have freakouts, and I have to apologize to people after for acting the way I did,
and texting them about it.
I hate how the razor keeps calling me back, singing it's siren song.
I want it all to just stop.
I won't do it, ever again, but god, sometimes it is so tempting.

I hate how all I do is complain,
and I honestly can't fix myself.